End Game
by David3
Summary: When Earth is attacked by Klingons, the Enterprise is its only hope...*Chapter 3 Up* R/R PLEASE!
1. Unpleasant News

[The usual disclaimer…I own no part of Enterprise or its characters…]

"There now, Mr. Reed…all prosthetics have been removed.  You're back to your normal self again," Phlox said, humming merrily.

Reed sat up and stretched.  "I don't know…I think I made a fine Suliban—" he was interrupted by a stifled giggle from the other end of Sickbay.  _Bloody hell!  I thought I was alone!_  Reed felt himself flushing.

Hoshi walked up behind him.  "That's the first joke I've heard from you in a while, Lieutenant…what was in that makeup, Doctor?"

The Doctor looked surprised.  "Just the standard gelatin plaster with nontoxic coloring—is there something amusing, Ensign?"

Hoshi shook her head, "It's nothing, Doctor…anyway, I came here to take the Lieutenant off your hands.  The Captain wants him in the briefing room."

Phlox held up his hands.  "Who am I to refuse such a request?  He's all yours, Ensign."

Hoshi went a shade redder at that remark, but Reed missed it.  She looked expectantly at him, and he moved to follow her out of Sick Bay and to the turbo lift.  Reed tried to think of something to talk about on the way there, but his brain simply wouldn't obey the command.  He was relieved when Hoshi broke the silence as they entered the turbo lift.  She thinned her lips and looked up at him.

"Why would the captain be wanting you in the B-room?  I mean," she stumbled over it in embarrassment, and Reed couldn't help but be amused, "as a weapons officer."

Reed tried to look her in the eyes when he shrugged.  "My guess would be that he wants to, one, be more alert as to other races' conflicts, and two, be able to better counter another race's offensives.  Though I'd think you'd be better suited for the first one."

Hoshi raised an eyebrow.  "Why would you think that?"

Reed flushed at his ignorance and his inability to avoid that trap.  He tried to work his way out of it.  "You would almost definitely be able to interpret…interspecies situations more accurately than I could."  He almost breathed a sigh of relief.  _That wasn't so bad…_

Hoshi cracked a grin.  "Nice one, Lieutenant," she said as she punched him in the ribs.

Reed was surprised to say the least, but not unpleasantly so.  He only noticed the turbo lift doors opening when Hoshi moved to step out.  He also was grateful that their short walk across the bridge to the B-room was uneventful.

As the door slid open, Captain Archer looked up and grinned.  "Only two minutes early today, Malcolm?"

Reed's glanced involuntarily towards the chronometer.  _1158 hours…_

Trip smirked.  "Malcolm, I think these schematics are more interesting than a clock," he said, pointing to a torpedo-like weapon blueprinted on the central computer screen.

Reed could barely keep his eyes from boggling.  "A point-two-six hull penetration gradient?  Our torpedoes currently have a point-one-three-five…sir, this torpedo would need a power drive with an output—" Archer cleared his throat and Reed stopped speaking.  _Darn it, Reed!  You're flushing again…_

"Umm…thanks for the technical briefing, Malcolm.  Starfleet's interested in testing out this design on the NX-02 due out 6 months from now.  They want your opinion—do you want to say something, Malcolm?" Archer finished, amused by Reed's shifting in his seat.

"Ah, sir…it would be…quite inefficient to install such a weapon."

Hoshi's eyebrows arched.  "You can tell that from just looking at it?"

"Well, judging from the size and mass of the torpedo, I would guess that it would require a fuel tank with a 15 cubic meter capacity—"

Meanwhile, Trip had been punching calculations on his pad.  He looked up from it shaking his head.  He elbowed Hoshi and let her take a look at it.  _14.82…_ Hoshi mouthed a "wow" at Trip, and he silently whistled.

Archer cleared his throat again and nodded.  "All right…with that out of the way, we've got to discuss our current situation.  

Hoshi, is there anything we can do about…being more alert to other races' conflicts?"

Hoshi shook her head.   "Anyway, sir, there are several ways that we could do this.  We could hail each system as we enter its territory, or we could do it a more subtle way."

Archer looked thoughtful.  "I'm all ears."

"We could tap into their television and radio waves.  Earth's can be detected from light years away…"

Trip shook his head.  "Frankly, sir, I can't see our UT being able to cover every species' language enough to listen to their nightly news reports.  Secondly…" he grinned mischievously, "though I have the utmost trust in our communications officer's abilities, I think she would be a little overwhelmed if she had to learn a language a day."

Reed turned an amused glance Hoshi's way.  She looked at Trip and said, "Why thank you for your concern, Commander.  Back to the topic, Captain, I think it's unavoidable that we'll step into tightly guarded territories.  It's what we do when we're in those situations that counts."

Reed silently congratulated her.  _Couldn't have said it better myself_.  Meanwhile, he stood up and addressed the captain.  "Captain, the problem with us is that we aren't _recognized_.  Do you think that the Tandarans would have detained a Klingon vessel?  We need to…make a name for ourselves, captain!  We've got to make tough decisions, and we've got to be respected for it.  Reputation is a valuable thing…" he trailed off and sat down, thoroughly embarrassed.

Archer got up and paced.  "Malcolm, I see what you're saying, but we just aren't equipped for the kind of fighting that'd come with such a strategy.  We've got to bide our time…wait for new technology…" when he saw Reed anxious to respond, he waved his hand in the air.  "That's about all the discussion that I can handle for today, you all.  Back to duty…"

One by one, the crew left until Archer was alone.  He sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the window looking out into space.  His head spun with thoughts about interstellar reputations and weaponry.  These complications were like a persistent hurricane, slowly blowing him away…

Archer turned resolutely from the window.  "You can't be afraid of the wind, Jon." Smiling, he exited the briefing room to join his crewmates on the bridge.

*** 

Reed looked up at the mess hall's chronometer.  _2330 hours.  I really should get some sleep._  He looked down at the table where his new hull polarization schematics lay spread out.  Weeks of work had been put into them, and he really didn't think that another hour would make any real difference.

He spun around when he heard a yawn behind him.  "Easily startled, Lieutenant?" Hoshi asked, amused.

Reed sighed.  "It's been a long night.  I really should be getting some rest."

Hoshi looked at the schematics.  "What are those?"

Reed stepped away from the table.  "Oh, those…they're just an idea I had a week or so ago.  I'm about ready to present it to the captain…just a couple more nights' work…"

Hoshi looked around the table for a PADD, but didn't see one.  "Don't you need a PADD for this kind of work?  It looks complicated."

Reed looked around the room as if to find an escape from the question.  "On some parts of it, you don't need one," he finished lamely.

Hoshi half-smiled.  "I'm sure.  Listen, about the briefing today…how'd you do…what you did with the torpedo?  Trip did the math on his PADD and got the same thing…"

Reed sighed again.  "How do you learn languages so effectively?"

Apparently, Hoshi was prepared for that one.  She put on her most professor-like pose and said, "I utilize my superior upper and lower audio band detection along with my ability to recognize patterns."

Reed couldn't help but laugh.  "Looks like you've got me on that one, Ensign."

Hoshi put her hands on her hips.  "Well?"

Reed started speaking quietly.  "One of the reasons I enjoy my position as a weapons officer is that I…understand the weapons I use.  When I fire a torpedo manually, I already know exactly where it's going to hit.  The gravitational fluctuations, the particle friction, it all fits to form a picture.  Think of it as a sort of three-dimensional graph—all the factors that affect a torpedo come together at a point.  I'm sorry, I can't explain it any better."

"Is that why the captain wanted you as the armory officer?  Because you can do that?"  While Reed spoke, she looked over the papers on the table.

"Actually, no one knows about this except for you.  And…I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way," Reed nervously fiddled with his pen.

Hoshi patted him on the shoulder.  "Okay, your secret's safe with me.  I…I think I understand why."

Reed breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you, Hoshi."

Hoshi grinned and turned to leave.  "Good night, Malcolm!" she said as she left.

Reed turned to his papers and smiled.  _They can wait for tomorrow._

*** 

Captain Archer fiddled with the armrest of his chair.  _They say space is exciting, but it's moments like these that make you want to go to sleep.   _He smiled when he pictured Porthos doing just that.  He was just moving on to T'Pol's facial 

expression when Hoshi's voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Captain, I'm getting a priority one distress call from High Command.  I'll patch it through to your ready room."  Hoshi looked worried.

Reed looked at the captain.  "Sir, we've got to act quickly about whatever they hailed us for.  Due to transmission time lag, this message is approximately two and a half days old."

Archer grimaced and headed into his ready room.  He saw the face of Admiral Forrest on the screen.  "Jon, we've heard disturbing reports about the Klingons over the last few months.  Rumors of a Terran system invasion have been floating around ever since we first encountered them.  Now we have the sensor evidence to prove it.  Our probes have picked up a fleet of at least a dozen birds of prey and five or six D-7 class destroyers on an intercept course with Earth.  Jon, I don't think you need 

Mr. Reed's knowledge of our defenses to know that we wouldn't last a day against that.  We need Enterprise, Jon.  The Vulcans have offered assistance, but even Soval looked worried when he saw the Klingon fleet's statistics.  We've got to evacuate as many people as we can," his transmission started breaking up, "Jon, the Klingon forward scouts are already trying to scramble communications.  They'll reach Pluto in less than a week—" the rest of the transmission was static.

Archer rubbed his temples and sat heavily in his chair.  _You know it's your fault, Jon.  The Klingons would never have known Humans existed if you hadn't told them your home world and species.  That's just one of the risks of adventure…Malcolm was right.  _Archer rubbed his eyes with his fingers and they came away slick.  _Oh God, Jon, what have you done?_

Straightening his uniform, he moved towards his door with a new resolve.  _The Klingons haven't stopped Enterprise yet.  You've got to have faith._


	2. Preparations

***High Command Headquarters*** 

Admiral Forrest was running on desperation and adrenaline. Work had been stepped up on the NX-02, but even at this heightened rate it would still be two months before it even left Spacedock for a test run. 

He'd asked the Vulcans for assistance, and yes, they looked worried—but the Admiral was skeptical as to what they were worrying about. He'd only seen two additional support craft arrive from Vulcan, and they were, to say the least, ill-suited for the task of taking down the Klingon armada. He harbored suspicions that the Vulcans would retreat once the battle was underway and rush to the safety of their home world. 

He couldn't blame them. 

After looking at the Vulcan database, he'd determined that even the Vulcans would have a tough time countering this fleet. _Small comfort._ He began nervously drumming his console, anxiously awaiting Enterprise's reply. 

*** 

Aboard Enterprise, the briefing room was filled yet again. Captain Archer paced up and down the floor with his brow furrowed, hoping to think of a way out of the situation. 

Trip leaned forward. "Hoshi, is there any way you can ask them to stop this? I know it's a long shot, but—" 

Hoshi shook her head. "Forget it, sir…I've already tried. They aren't responding to any of our hails." 

Reed exhaled in disbelief. "Captain, there's no conceivable way that this ship could destroy any three of the Klingon vessels, much less all of them together. There're simply too many ships and too many guns." 

Archer sighed. "Anything positive, anyone?" 

Reed stood up tentatively. "Sir, when we visited Q'Onos, the world was in pretty bad shape. This assault must be drawing at least two-thirds of their fleet, probably more, most likely leaving the planet vulnerable. Should the Vulcans care to aid us," he shot a quick glance T'Pol's way, "they could send a fleet to the Klingon home world and force them to surrender." 

T'Pol shook her head. "That kind of attack would be foolish. We have neither the information nor the resources to launch such a campaign against an interstellar power." 

Trip rose angrily. "What I think is foolish is the thought of Vulcans risking their lives for the people on Earth!" 

Reed eyed T'Pol coldly. "It'd be _logical_ to assume that the needs of a planet would weigh more heavily than the safety of the small fleet that would be required for that operation." 

Hoshi shook her head. "Look, T'Pol doesn't get any say in this matter anyway! It's not her fault that her people won't listen—" 

Trip sighed and sat down. Reed followed suit, glancing apologetically at T'Pol. 

Archer stood up. "A probe," was all he said, drawing a few confused glances. 

Reed nodded. "Right…T'Pol, where's the Vulcan ship closest to Q'Onos? They could send a warp probe to check the status of the planet." 

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "The Sulik is expected to come within a half a light year of Q'Onos tomorrow. Perhaps I will contact my superiors about it, with Captain Archer's permission, of course." 

Archer almost smiled. "Sure, why not?" 

*** 

It was 0200 hours when Admiral Forrest was awakened by a priority one message alert. As early as it was, all thoughts of sleep fled from his mind. _Enterprise!_

Had circumstances been different, Forrest would have laughed at Archer's face. _Looks almost as bad as I do._ When the transmission started, however, he was paying full attention. 

"Admiral, I just received your transmission an hour ago. We're heading at Warp 5 to Earth—we should get there in three days—tomorrow for you. One other thing…damn, Admiral, I'm sorry. You told me not to screw things up. Well, it looks like I went too far. I…I'll see you later. Archer out." 

Forrest looked out the window. _Of course I don't blame you, Jon. You're doing the best you can._ The more he thought about it, though, the more a tiny doubt crept into his mind about that statement. He shook his head. _Snap out of it, Forrest. Now's the time for action._ He stepped to his window, watching the sun go behind Earth. He stayed there for a long time. 

*** 

T'Pol entered the bridge. "Captain, I have contacted the Sulik. They have reluctantly agreed to send a probe to the Klingon home world—we should be receiving data within the next ten hours." 

Archer nodded. "We've got to spend every minute of those hours thinking up a way to defend Earth. Malcolm, you and Hoshi need to go to astrometrics. Find out what kind of advantages we can gain from the solar system itself. Trip, go and see if we can't speed up our engines a little. Mayweather, I want you to help Trip—maybe you two can find another use for the warp core if all else fails. T'Pol, I need for you to contact Vulcan High Command and explain the situation. And one more thing—good luck to all of you…I know you'll need it." 

The bridge crew nodded and left. Archer went to his ready room to wait for a response from Starfleet Command. While he was waiting, he brought up the Vulcan specs on the Klingon ships. _We'll be ready for them._

***


	3. Many Happenings

Hoshi took a look at the model of the solar system. "The captain gave us one heck of a job, didn't he?" 

Reed laughed softly and looked over at her. "Well, they say it's the tough jobs that matter most." 

"That's what I'm talking about," Hoshi said, rubbing her forehead. 

Reed shook his head. "I just can't see a reasonable method for defending a planet! A ship, yes, but a planet…it's so large scale, Hoshi!" 

Hoshi looked at her PADD. "How about a minefield, Malcolm?" 

Reed sighed. "No, static defenses are completely out of the question. Besides, even if we could construct a minefield encompassing the space around Earth, it'd prevent anything from coming in as well as going out. All we need is cheap, quickly producible, and super-powerful weapons. Quite a tall order, wouldn't you say?" 

"Can Starfleet possibly finish the NX-02 by the time the Klingons come?" 

"Unfortunately not. Its estimated time of completion is 2 months from now." 

Hoshi growled and Reed burst out laughing. Indignantly, Hoshi said, "Just what do you find amusing about this, Malcolm Reed?" 

Still laughing, Reed replied, "I'm sorry, Hoshi, it's just you." When he saw her expression darken, he added, "Meant as a compliment, of course." 

Hoshi returned to the subject sarcastically. "Why don't they warp Starfleet HQ into the fleet? That might take down a few ships." 

Reed smiled as he imagined the clunky Starbase at full ramming speed. 

Hoshi sighed. "Well, it was better than the minefield idea." 

Reed's laughter turned into stunned silence. While he couldn't picture Starfleet HQ warping into unsuspecting Klingon ships, he definitely could see mines warping into them. "Hoshi, you're a genius!" he said excitedly. 

*** 

Archer rubbed his eyes. _I think I would have been happier not knowing all this information_ he thought ruefully to himself as he reviewed the Klingon ship specs. _I think Malcolm was being optimistic about our chances!_ He couldn't help laughing at hearing himself think of such a thing. _Malcolm Reed optimistic…my, have times changed._

Just as the Klingon shield frequencies started blurring with crew duty roster information, Archer heard a buzz. "Come in," he called. 

Reed and Hoshi entered his ready room, looking nothing short of ecstatic. Archer breathed a sigh of relief. "Have you found anything?" 

Hoshi smiled. "As a matter of fact, yes. We've adapted the minefield principle to serve us—if the Klingons won't run into the mines, why not run the mines into them?" 

Reed nodded his approval. "Sir, if Starfleet could add a warp drive to something as small as a standard torpedo…" 

Archer nodded. "They'll be able to use it as some sort of high-speed projectile weapon. Hoshi, contact Starfleet Command about our discovery." 

Reed looked at the Captain strangely and motioned for Hoshi to stop. "Um, Captain, I wouldn't advise directly communicating our findings with Earth—at least not yet."  
  
Hoshi and Archer looked at him. Archer asked, "Why not, Malcolm?" 

"Sir, the Klingons are most likely monitoring communications frequencies between us and Starfleet HQ. If they managed to intercept a message containing our battle strategies, they'd be prepared for whatever we put up against them." 

Archer shook his head in disbelief. "That, Malcolm, is why I have an Armory officer. I can't believe I didn't think of that myself. Oh, is there anything else?" he added as he saw Reed lost in thought. 

"Sir, I was just thinking—we'd need to hide our mines' warp signatures with an ionic masking device of some sort. This whole plan goes out the airlock if the Klingons activate their shields, something they'd surely do." 

Hoshi spoke up, "Malcolm, I thought for sure that I'd read a report about these warp signature maskers somewhere saying that they didn't work and took up too much power. Are you sure that they're an option here?" 

Reed shook his head. "The reason why the report—written by H. Hughes, I believe—denounces the maskers is because they were tested on a ship the size of Enterprise. It would be much more efficient to employ such a device on a smaller warp engine, namely the one we would use on each of the torpedoes." 

Archer held up his hands. "Ok, I think that's enough for now. Iron out the fine points of your plan to present to Starfleet—make sure every detail is covered. We won't have much time to refine it after we get to Earth." He bit his lip nervously at the thought. 

*** 

Trip looked over at his console. "It looks like this job's going nowhere soon, Travis. The warp drive's already at 98 percent efficiency." 

Mayweather shook his head. "Maybe we should go to the Captain's plan B—do you think we could use the warp core itself as some sort of weapon?" 

Trip thought a moment before responding, "Well, Travis, in theory the core could be detonated to produce some small-scale antimatter explosion. I can't see it affecting more than two or three ships, but boy, would they be toast!" 

"How would we eject the core in the first place?" 

"Well, there're magnetic seals all around it. We could rig the computer to link them all together to be released at the same time, but that wouldn't be pretty if we were traveling at warp speed. We'd rip the ship apart like paper through a shredder." 

Mayweather raised his eyebrows. "We'd have to eject it at impulse? How would we survive the antimatter blast? We'd be as dead as the Klingons." 

Trip nodded solemnly. "That's the problem, Travis—we'd have to dump it and run. I don't know how smart the Klingons are, but I doubt they'd come within a thousand kilometers of a warp core just sitting in space." 

Mayweather shrugged. "What are we going to tell the Captain?" 

Trip grinned. "We could ask him for a spare warp core." 

*** 

Captain Archer's mood changed swiftly as T'Pol reported her communications with Soval. "So you're telling me that the Vulcans are going to make Earth fend for itself? If they can't distract the Klingons, they could at least send a fleet over to Earth to help!" 

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "It is not as simple as it appears, Captain. Vulcan has its own affairs." 

Archer looked away. "You're dismissed, sub-commander." After the doors shut behind T'Pol, he shut off his computer and put his head in his hands. _Think about the finals. Two goals down, one minute left. Once you give up, the game is over._

_You're going to lose this one, Jon._

***


End file.
